Blue Christmas
by IronAmerica
Summary: Christmas without Vince is hard.


Hey, it's a new story! Dana and Trip's first Christmas without Vince...

Un-beta'ed, so quibble away.

- o – o -

Blue Christmas (Without You)

Dana sat in her living room, curled up on the sofa with a cup of cocoa. Trip had been sent to bed (finally) half an hour ago. She'd managed to pack him off with as little fuss as possible, which was a blessing. Last year, Vince had threatened to tell the Cape _and_ Santa that Trip had been naughty on Christmas Eve to get their son to go to bed. (Dana _really_ wasn't going to question just _why_ the Cape was working with Santa. As long as it worked, it worked.)

But that had been last year. This year, she'd just asked Trip to be in bed by ten. He'd gone without fuss. It said something about how the year had been. Dana sighed and stretched out on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling. Christmas without Vince was…

It wasn't exactly _Christmas_. Her consolation prize for having her husband murdered was that Kia—her one friend at work, and Dana was refusing to count her boss as a friend—had invited her and Trip over for Christmas dinner with her boyfriend. Kia insisted it wasn't going to be a problem. Dana had, after a few minutes quiet contemplation, agreed. It was better than anything she'd planned, which wasn't much.

Vince had been the one who'd liked Christmas. He'd been really into the whole thing. The tree had been his favorite part of the holiday—if there had been a tree-decorating contest like in the Charlie Brown Christmas Special, Vince would have won. Dana gave a watery chuckle and sniffed back a few tears, hiding the worst of them in her cup of cocoa. Vince would have won. His stupid trees…

Dana sighed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. As if crying was going to do anything for her. She stood up, wrapping her blanket around her shoulders as she made the short trek from her living room to the kitchen. The radio was on, playing soft Christmas music. Trip must have left it on…

The woman sighed and rested her forehead on the cabinet. _Blue Christmas_. Of course it was playing _Blue Christmas_… She hated that song, always had, always would. Vince had teased her about that, laughing at her rage every time the song came on the radio. (She wondered what would have happened if she'd contacted her old lawschool friends and made good on Vince's joke of suing the radio stations for playing the song endlessly. Eli would have had fun…)

It was not going to be a good Christmas. Vince was never coming home. She didn't have a tree. There was no snow. ARK was still ridiculously well-liked, and it pissed her off. Suffice it to say, things were adding up to give her a very bad mood.

She knew there was no logical reason _why_ she should have been mad. It was Christmas Eve. Trip was excited for tomorrow morning, when he could finally open presents. Dana was looking forward to meeting Kia's boyfriend at last. She had to be happy. It was Christmas Eve, there were only a few more hours to go and then the worst of it would be over.

Christmas had always been Vince's thing. He'd been the one who loved the holiday. Even when he'd roped Dana into making popcorn strings with him, he'd kept her laughing as he tried (rather unsuccessfully) to sneak popcorn and eat it. Trip had been better at it. Trip was so like his father… Christmas was their thing. It just… Dana tried to like Christmas, but it wasn't really her thing…

Not without Vince.

It wasn't Christmas without her husband.

Dana sighed again and tipped what was left of her cocoa into the sink. There was no point in finishing it. Vince wasn't there to tease her about her cocoa anyways. She was just being practical…and ignoring everything that had made her happy about Christmas.

"Denial's not just a river in Egypt, Dana," she sighed, washing her mug out. Vince wasn't there with a plate of cookies that he'd share with her—and then tell Trip that he'd seen the Cape and Santa sharing them, to Trip's wide-eyed glee and annoyance that he'd missed the two most important figures in his young life.

Of course, now that the Cape was real… Dana shook her head. No way was he coming here. Not on Christmas Eve. He was probably celebrating it with his family, or was stopping a crime, or maybe he was off harassing Peter Fleming. He wasn't going to bother coming to—

Dana froze as she heard someone knocking on the window in the living room. If Trip had gone crawling around on the fire escape again, she was going to murder him. She stalked out of the living room, damp sponge clenched in her hand. Of all nights for her son to be an id…

The Cape was perched on her windowsill, clinging to it with his free arm and legs. He was tapping on the window, a small grin on his face. Dana dropped the sponge on the floor and rushed over to the window to open it. She stepped back as the vigilante stepped into her apartment and hid a giggle behind her hand as he swore.

The top of his backpack had been open, and a brightly wrapped package had spilled out.

"You…weren't supposed to see that yet," the Cape muttered. The lower half of his face was tinged red in an embarrassed blush. He picked the package up, rubbing the back of his neck with an awkward smile on his face. Dana smiled back.

"It's okay," she said. "Do you want some cocoa?"

"That'd be nice," Cape replied, smiling as he pulled the backpack off.

"I'll pretend I didn't see those," Dana added over her shoulder as she headed for the kitchen to get some fresh cocoa. Luckily for her, Trip slept like the dead once he was asleep. It would take a world war going off next to his bedroom window to wake him up. Vince had been like that too.

As she made cocoa, Dana realized it needed something else. It was a hunch, but…

She carried two mugs out to the living room. Hers was plain and had absolutely nothing added to it. The Cape's mug had whipped cream, marshmallows, and cinnamon—just like Vince. She had a feeling he'd take it the same way her husband had… (If she was lucky, though, she could avoid him being a complete and total moron about the marshmallows melting before he could eat them. Vince had had the worst case of puppy dog eyes when that had happened…every single year, without fail.)

Dana sat down next to the vigilante and handed over the mug of cocoa. "Merry Christmas," she said, toasting him with her mug of unadulterated cocoa. He smiled back.

"Merry Christmas."

Dana fell asleep with her head on the vigilante's shoulder. She heard him leave when she was in the area between awake and sleep, and frowned a little. The frown went away when he pulled a heavy quilt over her, and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

Alright, maybe she'd stop complaining about Christmas so much…

She woke up in the morning and decided the whole thing had been a dream…until she saw Trip standing in front of her, loudly demanding to know why she hadn't woken him up when the Cape came by. Dana sighed.

Then again…

Well, it was okay. Everything could be taken a little bit at a time. Even Christmas without Vince.

It wasn't such a blue Christmas after all.

- o – o -

So, what did you think? Good? Bad? Should Vince stop being a dummy and just let Dana know already? Drop a line and let me know!


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